I didn't have internet

We've moved. We're settled and we finally have BT line and therefore have internet.

I am the epitome of domestic bliss. Aside from the fact that I just dropped my bathmat into the canal and it's floating away. Lots of pictures of my new home and new neighbourhood coming soon.

so this morning

Second night in a row that I've had a shit sleep, but even calling it a sleep is an overstatement. I've been awake since around 5:30am and finally got out of bed at 6:45am because I knew that if I fell asleep, I would end up feeling worse. It's this house (old house). Especially now that everything has been boxed up and shifted around, there is so much dust in the air and I'm congested and wheezy all over again. And I can definitely feel myself getting sick because I'm not sleeping properly, but this morning (which it still is, it's now 7:17am here) I woke up that early mainly due to stress, but couldn't fall back asleep because of this congestion. I'm repeating myself but I'm slightly delirious. Last night I kept dropping asleep but housemate Tet who is moving into mine and Chris' room, was building stuff and knocking around so I would wake up at the slightest tick. So in the past two nights, I've had many 9 hours sleep, which is usually my going rate per night.

And because of this stress, not only do I feel it physically, but mentally. However, a massive relief was actually seeing the flat last night. And signing the contract, even if upon signing the contract, we find out that our flat is actually, after all, after many trips to bloody Ikea, after all that time spent etc. furnished. It is just a comedy of errors with this flat but in fact it's easier, even if the furniture is rather bachelor pad and way too big for the size of the flat. We'll make it work. And we have a great mattress which means that I may actually sleep well. Chris has to complete the annoying task today of denying Ikea delivery (we've spoken with customer service and this sort of thing happens frequently). One rather awful thing about today is that we're having a press launch tonight which means I have to work until around 9pm. So I'm working 12 hours, sleeping 4 1/2 whilst in the process of moving. I'm reaching exhausted, or I am just getting sick...yet again...

so today

We spent over 4 hours in ikea. Everything is being delivered on Tuesday so we won't officially move in until then, at least tomorrow we get the keys. And my clothes (amazingly) are all packed. And we've been struggling with this stupid wing chair, schlepping it down the stairs of a narrow london townhouse, and when it came down to it (not fucking pun intended) they sawed the legs off. That's when I lost interest and went on facebook.

Fuck em. Right now I'm saying very lax to Chris regarding a suitcase full of random clothes, "it will close". I can't wait until Wednesday, and/or happy hour. Happy hour being tomorrow, unpacking my clothes with a method of organisation. I'm shallow but don't give a darn right now. But I am having a moderately lovely time watching Chris being all manly etc. You know, moving stuff, sweating. Very rarely do I see him in a masculine capacity. He usually just moans about things.

after much sneezing

I think it's the dust in this room, and us shuffling everything around because I'm having that allergic reaction again. And this time, I had a bottle of wine to myself last night so I'm already feeling a bit wheezy. Now it's just arrogance really, I only ate soup last night and polished a bottle to myself, and to be honest, I feel fine. In fact, we're on our way to Ikea right now.

Good news is that we're moving in tomorrow! Except the text message is quite vague, so hopefully move in tomorrow?

hold

I'm beyond frustrated at our moving situation. The plan was, from 4 weeks ago, that Chris and I would move in today to our new flat. Here's the bloody story:

So we found our flat the friday before we left for Canada. We filled out the papers, sent them off, everything was fine, move in date was 29 September. That was four weeks ago now. We've been back in the UK for two weeks and only on this Tuesday do we hear from our referencing people that I need a guarantor because I'm only a lodger at the house, not on the tenancy agreement. Now because we only hear on Tuesday, we have to put a rush order on the money, i.e. first month's rent and 6 weeks deposit. Had this bloody referencing company got back to us about two weeks, or even last week (they've only had four weeks to process this) everything would have been fine. So Chris looks up how to do this transfer and it says that he has to post something to Swindon in order for this to be transferred immediately. So he posts the letter Wednesday night, thinking it would arrive by Thursday, money would go through, we would be fine. No no. Come Friday, I receive this panicked email from Chris saying that the money hasn't gone through, that our estate agent is in Bristol giving a training session and there's no one at the office who knows that they're doing/can help us. So now, we're sitting here, no one has contacted us regarding any information and I'm really aggravated. We're I suppose moving on Monday, we'll in all actuality, Chris and his mother are moving us on Monday as I'm off to work.

And we have to go back to ikea, suffer through another arduous near divorce but perhaps come out stronger. But right now I'm living amongst boxes and mess. And last night at John Lewis, I grew up by buying a kettle, dust buster, toaster and an iron. But today, I'm going to make the most of it by leaving the house, going to Upper st. and finding cool things such as, I have no idea what, I just like stuff.

east

E2 to be exact. Chris and I are moving in, just the two of us in one week to a brand new building along Regent's Canal. We're right by Broadway Market, London Fields, central Hackney and tennis courts. I'm psyched to move as it's all high spec, clean (which is surprisingly such a luxury). Our rent is about to nearly double, but it's worth it for the space. I do love where we're leaving now, but we're only going to be a twenty minute walk away. And seriously, storage is a blessing.

We just came back from vintage shopping on Brick Lane and I found this bright purple wooly jumper for £10. These are the things I look forward to on the weekend. And now that our rent is so high, I can't do regular clothing shops any longer. Well I can if it's vintage or not as expensive...(Chris thinks I'm a bit of a loose cannon, but not really, even though our wardrobe is bursting with clothes, some of which haven't even been warn since I've moved to England, which is now, over a year ago).

Tonight I believe we're getting together with Chris' friend Derry, who I happened to bump into on the bus ride to work and who happens to be a great Liverpudlian who I sometimes can't understand.

sion

Week of mayhem. Balls of feet throbbing. Actually I'll bet they're bruised. Thanks London Fashion Week.

I'm going to leave this open but I saw Claudia Schiffer, Naomi Campbell and Tom Ford up close and 1 inch make up thick yesterday. And I checked in Hamish Bowles.

What am I doing with my life?

non stop

Seriously, I'm ostensibly crying now due to wheeze.

sneeze

No idea why, but since we've returned, basically since I stepped foot in our door, I've been sneezing non stop. Chris says my face looks really puffy so I'm thinking it's allergies but I'm sneezing as often as a pregnant woman wees. I'm now annoyed. And we're meeting Chris' parents for lunch today and I'm all sneezy, wheezy, teary, and evidently puffy, however I can seduce them with a bottle of ice wine that my dad bought for them. Chris and I were discussing the day that our parents meet. I'm sure it will happen soon enough, and although the idea isn't entirely horrifying, it's definitely intense.

But yeah, holiday at home is the best kind. I did have my double cheeseburger on the way home, however the best one I had came after a night of drinking with Alessandro. The was the night where Chris fell down a ditch on Decew rd. because he made the taxi driver pull over so he could wee. And I really didn't think we had that much until I woke up at 8am to drive my dad to work and felt like vomiting and dying at the same time. But a nap and a cheeseburger on the way to Toronto solved that problem.

And I saw my family. And when speaking to them I could hear how different I sounded (not solely based on accent, which sometimes made me sound Australian to my fellow Canadian, but moderately English to everyone else), just with life experience etc. blah blah blah. However I'm tired of explaining my job, clients we have, parties we've thrown, celebs I've seen. In fact, the idea of work tomorrow seems far too abstract. And the thought of London as a return to home, not as an abstraction but as a fact is even more far out.

I'm sneezing therefore I'm quitting.

jet and lagging

We're back in England again after Canadian holiday. I'm tired and weird.

It's another full day of laundry and adjusting back to GMT.

It was a fantastic holiday. I'll embellish later.

Chris knew we were back in London when at noon, whilst we were asleep (our flight landed at 4:30am and we took a nap from 6-noon) some estate kid yelled 'dick head'.

It's good to be back home.